


One Hale of a Story

by nogitsune_lichen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (not saying who though), Alive Hale Family, Alpha Talia Hale, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Babies, Canonical Character Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fix-It, Future Fic, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Hale Family Feels, Isaac Lahey Feels, Kid Fic, M/M, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Polish Stilinskis, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Pregnancy, Romance, SO MANY FUCKING OCs but THEY ARE ALL SO GOOD I PROMISe, SO MUCH FUCKING SLOW BURN, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Slow Burn, So many potato pancakes and Polish proverbs, Stilinski Family Feels, Talia Hale & Claudia Stilinski Friendship, The Argent Family, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Unplanned Pregnancy, Warning: Kate Argent, like so way later in the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogitsune_lichen/pseuds/nogitsune_lichen
Summary: "I wish our story was as epic as our parents'."Derek glances over to Stiles, brows furrowed in confusion at the declaration. Of course the younger man picks up on this and elaborates."You know...the boombox in the river. Surprise pregnancies. Almost burning down an apartment complex over potato pancakes.""I think you're confusing epic with unfortunate events that had a happy ending," Derek chuckles, "but ours is epic too, just in a different less chaotic way. Our way.""Sappywolf.""Shut up."





	1. 1985 (pt. 1)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a giant fucking story and I hope you guys like it, the show really didn't give us much origins so I said fuck it and wrote it! :D

The last thing Talia Hale needs on her run is howling laughter and trashy music to distract her. Talia skids against the undergrowth, bare feet catching against the twigs and the leaves. Her ears twitch towards where the deep rumbling voices mingle with the sound of rushing water.

The river.

Talia turns ninety degrees and begins to approach the body of water. It has been a part of her family’s land for as long as anyone can recall, most of the town knows to stay out of this part of the woods if they can help it. She tucks herself close to a mass of shrubbery, pausing to make sure her features are human, and peaks out to see the trespassers.

Three guys are splashing in the water while two others are relaxing on a nearby set of chairs. She smells the alcohol before she sees it, and it makes her eyes roll _almost_ hard enough to hurt. The rough housing in the lake continues for a few minutes and Talia is bored with it, ready to return home to let her family know, when she senses a shift in the air. A whirring noise gets louder and shouts of “ _way to lose the ball Kevin_ ” put the puzzle together.

Before Talia really registers her movement, she’s stepping out of the shrubs and reaching up to catch the overthrown football. The pigskin is sopping wet and rough against her hands, it isn’t a nice football either. It is old and peeling.

“What the—?”

Talia looks up, steeling herself as she steps closer, “you’re on private property. Please leave.”

“If you hadn’t noticed,” one of them says, “we’re in the middle of a game.”

“Yeah, a game on my property,” Talia snaps back.

The same guy cocks an eyebrow at her and approaches the shallow part of the river. He’s in an obnoxiously orange pair of swim trunks, it strains her eyes a bit just to look at them. His dark brown hair is slick with water, droplets falling from the strands and onto his shoulders. Talia does her best to ignore the challenge in his stance.

The wind picks up a bit and his scent floods her nose. Her nostrils burn with how smug he smells along with the river water that clings to his skin.

“It’s just a river. What are you going to do about it anyways?” He asks as his arms cross over his chest.

Talia scoffs, putting her free hand on her hip, “it isn’t smart to challenge me.”

“Oh really?” He snickers.

His friends laugh along with him.

Talia has to choke down a growl.

“How about you just toss the ball back sweetheart, _if_ you can.”

“If I can? You fucking—,” Talia snarls and grips the football tight before winding up her arm. She doesn’t put everything she has into it, otherwise she is probably going to break his hands, but she puts a lot of force behind it. The ball sails through the air and the guy has the audacity to attempt to catch it.

It makes him fly backwards, his feet kicking out from beneath him, and it feels so satisfying to see him plunge back into the water. Talia can feel the other guys staring at her in disbelief, so she takes that stunned silence to walk over to their little set up.

The guy nearest to her tenses up, looking a little shaken as he shrinks into his chair.

Talia grabs the boombox by its handle before launching it over her head. None of the guys are fast enough to catch it before it splashes into the river, and she can hear every nook and cranny of that thing flood with water and break.

“What the hell lady?!” Another guy shouts at her.

She glares at him, shoulders squaring up, “I told you this was private property, and none of you listened. Get the hell out of here before I come back!”

With that she turns on her heel, fists clenching and teeth grinding, and as fast as _humanly_ possible gets out of there. The wind shifts again and her nose twitches as another new emotional scent hits her. It makes her pause and crane her neck back towards the guys.

They’re all making their way out of the water to pack up, all except the guy who had pissed her off to no end. He was standing in the water still, hands clutching his football, his eyes meeting hers. Talia narrowed her eyes watching as he….watched her.

The heavy feeling in her chest was uncomfortable, she couldn’t explain it or make sense of it; she turns back around and starts towards home. For the boy’s sake they better be gone before her father comes to check it out, he’ll do more than throw their shit into the water.

Talia breaks out into her fastest sprint when she feels safe enough to do so, her heavy footfalls less than graceful as she approaches the house. It stands alone in the woods, big and white against the browns and greens around it. On the front porch her mother is enjoying a cool glass of lemonade while their visitor goes on about something.

Her approach makes both werewolves stop and look at her, Talia can smell their concern.

“Did you put on some of Peter’s cologne?” Her mother coughs.

Talia shakes her head and walks up the front steps, “no. Found a group of guys swimming on our part of the river. They didn’t listen, so I may have thrown their boombox into the river to get them to leave.”

Satomi, the Alpha of the Ito pack from Oregon, snorts into her cup of tea. Her mother sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Oh Tali, you know that is not very Alpha-like, right? Being pragmatic—”

“You’re starting to sound like Dad,” Talia cuts in.

“—and if you’d let me finish, I was going to say, being pragmatic may have been a better way to go, but I am sure the looks on those boys’ faces was worth it,” her mother finishes.

“Eleanor,” Satomi chuckles, “you’re raising one hell of an Alpha.”

Talia tries to stop blushing under the praise, nodding her head respectfully before moving to go inside. Her mother’s hand grabs her elbow and pulls her back, her eyes falling towards the deck. Talia follows her gaze down to her own feet which happen to be caked in mud and leaves.

“Go hose off before you make a mess of my house,” she instructs.

“Damnit,” Talia grumbles and leaves the porch, rounding the house to the hose, hoping the water wouldn’t be too cold to wash off with. It doesn’t help that she can hear her mother and Satomi’s laughter.

* * *

 

If there is one thing Talia hates more than anything it’s shopping for the entire pack.

One person wants this, and another wants that. If it’s the wrong brand she has to come back and fix it because werewolves are super sensitive to taste. Peter has his license yet refuses to do _any_ shopping. However, she does get a bit more freedom to put whatever she wants into the cart by doing the shopping, it’s the only thing that keeps her doing this.

Her younger sister Josephine is on her heels, the fourteen-year-old following her like a sad puppy.

“Next?” Talia asks as she puts in a week's worth of frozen goods into the cart.

“Four gallons of milk and four dozen eggs,” Josephine says in monotone.

She glances back at her sister, a small smile on her face, “stop moping. You get to pick out the cereal for the week.”

“Last time I did that Mom got mad that we didn’t get the whole grain stuff,” Josephine says, “Apple Jacks are where it’s at.”

“I side with you on this one,” Talia laughs as she grabs the next few items, “but we’ll get a few boxes of the whole grains for mom anyways.”

It gets a small smile to cross Josephine's face. Talia feels a little less bad that she dragged her along now. The next forty-five minutes is just them rushing around the store and successfully filling two carts to the top. It looks like they can feed a small army if they want, but really, it’s for a house of hungry werewolves.

The shopping cart wheels groan with the weight as they approach the checkout counters. People who know them aren’t batting an eyelash, but those who’ve never seen the weekly Hale shopping trip are wide eyed. Talia looks at the checkout lane options and chooses number two, pushing the carts up before having Josephine help her unload everything to be rang up and put into bags.

“Morning, how’re you doing— _oh_.”

Talia tenses up as her heart races in her chest. Her sister eyes her with worry, but she just turns to face the clerk behind the counter. She sees familiar dark hair and broad shoulders; even the smug look is the same.

“Of course,” Talia huffs and harshly puts the carrots down.

“Hey now, don’t take it out on the vegetables,” the guy says, grabbing the carrots and holding them gently.

“Do you two know each other?” Josephine asks.

“ _No_ .” “ _Yeah_.”

Talia spins back around to the guy shaking her head, “no you don’t. Can you just do your job please?”

“Of course, ma’am, my handbook says ring up items _and_ make friendly small talk,” he teases and starts to at least scan their items.

“Tals—I think you know him.”

“Shut up Jo, not now,” Talia says sharply, but not harsh enough to prompt any submissive behaviors. Her sister shuts down and silently finishes getting everything out of the cart.

Talia leans against the counter, hands aggressive as they dig around her purse for her wallet. She pauses when the guy leans loser, another stupid smug smirk on his face. Her grip on her wallet tightens dangerously.

“I hear that if you frown too much your face can stick like that,” the guy tells her, “and I don’t think a girl such as yourself should frown forever.”

“A girl such as myself? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Talia asks sharply.

The guy shrugs, “have you looked in a mirror? You’re too beautiful to frown like that.”

Talia opens her mouth, but not to say anything; she’s frozen in shock. That felt like blunt flattery. Is she being hit on? Is he hitting on her? Josephine clears her throat and Talia straightens then, shoving a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

The guy presses a few buttons before giving her a flat look, “one hundred and forty-eight dollars and sixty cents.”

She smirks and all but throws her card at him. He takes it and charges her for the food, the receipt printing with loud mechanical sounds that make her ears ache. The guy hands her both the receipt and her card back, and Talia quickly tucks it away. Before she makes an escape, the guy braces himself on the counter with his elbows, looking over at her with a new look.

He looks incredibly shy, quite the change from before.

“Have you ever been to Charlie’s? The diner on—” He starts.

“The one on 5th, what about it?” Talia prompts.

“In all honesty I’d like to get to know you, we could grab something to eat, talk for a while”

Talia hates the way her face flames at the offer. The person in line behind her makes an impatient sound that reminds her she is holding up the other shoppers.

“How can I get to know you if I don’t even know your name?” Talia asks.

“Samuel,” the guy smiles, “and I get off at four, I’ll be at Charlie’s at five. I hope to see you there…”

“Talia, and I didn’t say yes,” she says.

Samuel shrugs, “I don’t think you’ll say no either. Now ma’am you’re holding up other customers.”

Josephine takes both carts and begins to push them away, grumbling about something but it was too mumbled for Talia to make out. She looks back to Samuel but says nothing, mouth clicking shut as she turns to follow her sister out of the store.

The mid-morning air outside is refreshing, it cools her skin and clears her head. They work together to get all the bags and boxes into the car trunk, the silence between them getting more uncomfortable as they finish up. Finally, the teenager flips her dark hair over her shoulder, her light eyes critical as they look at Talia.

“Who was that? How do you even know him?” Josephine asks.

“Remember those guys at the river a few days ago?” Talia asks while shutting the trunk and moving the carts to the side.

Her sister looks taken back, “that was football guy?”

“Yes, apparently he’s named Samuel and wants to take me to dinner,” Talia says, rationalizing it for the first time as well. Her stomach feels uneasy as she rounds the car and gets into the driver’s seat.

“You have to admit, he did smell a little...you know...attracted to you,” Josephine says and fiddles with the AC controls, so they don’t roast alive with the summer heat.

Talia grimaces, “please keep your nose to yourself.”

“You smelled the same too!”

“Oh my god, _Jo_ please spare me, I’m probably not even going to meet up with him.”

Her sister gasped, scent turning sour like disappointment, “Tals you have to go. When is the last time you were asked out?”

“....when I dated Lucas in college,” Talia grumbles.

“So, three years ago? Sis, it’s not like this guy is bad to look at.”

“Personality matters too.”

Josephine rolls her eyes, “he obviously irritates you in the right way. Can you just think about going? Please?”

“Will it stop this conversation if I promise to _think_ about it?” Talia deadpans.

“Yes.”

“Fine, I get to pick the radio station on the way back.”

“No Madonna! Please no Madonna,” Josephine begs.

Talia has her finger hovered over the station that usually plays the top pop hits her sister hates. She presses the local rock one instead and starts to pull out of the parking lot.

“I love you,” Josephine preens.

“Uh-huh,” Talia smiles.

* * *

 

When Talia promised to think about it, she didn’t really mean it.

Except now she is standing in the middle of her room, her closet now on her floor, with her sister rifling through all their options. Talia has probably tried on everything she owns at least twice. She is getting tired and it’s getting closer and closer to five o’clock and she’s still half dressed.

“How about this?” Josephine asks and holds up a pair of Talia’s high waisted jeans.

“It’s summer Jo,” Talia reminds her as she strips back down to her underwear.

Her sister falls back onto the carpeted floors looking ready to give up. Talia scans the mass piles of clothing trying to find something for this date. Her eyes catch a nice pair of jean shorts and one of her unstained t-shirts that she can probably wear her sneakers with.

“I’m not going all out, it’s just dinner,” Talia reasons more to herself than to her sister as she dresses, “hey—tucked or untucked?”

Josephine looks up to her, head tilting in thought before deciding, “tucked, wear your brown belt with it.”

“Smart.”

Talia grabs her belt and puts it on, eyeing herself in her mirror for a moment.

“Okay if you’re so good at this, why did I just make you try on fifty outfits? I am a very busy person, my time is precious,” Josephine whines.

“Alright, if your time is so precious go do what you have to do,” Talia tells her as she makes her way to the bathroom down the hall.

She doesn’t miss her sister’s footsteps that fall in line behind hers, “and not help you with your hair? Nice try, Sis.”

It makes Talia laugh as she brushes through her hair. Josephine is heating up the curling wand and getting out their hairspray. She almost feels at ease until a knock sounds from the doorway. Glancing over she sees her younger brother standing there, head cocked back, and arms crossed.

“So, what has you wearing practically nothing?” Peter asks.

“Did you get wolfsbane in your eyes? Can you not see her shorts?” Josephine asks.

Peter rolls his eyes, “everything is so short, that was the joke numbskull.”

“Don’t be an ass Peter,” Talia snarls, “and what has you in such an antagonistic mood?”

“What? I can’t be curious about where my dear older sister is going looking like that?”

“No,” both Talia and Josephine say at the same time.

The middle child sighs but hops up on the counter anyways, leaning against the wall behind him as his legs swing obnoxiously against the cabinets. Talia chooses to ignore him as Josephine starts to curl the ends of her hair. She busies herself with teasing the top of her hair and brushing it back to give it a little more volume before pinning it in place.

By the time they finish up she practically has to leave now if she wants to get there on time.

“This is stupid,” Talia says, leaning against the counter with her hip.

“No, it’s just dinner,” Josephine reminds her.

“You’re fifteen how the hell are you this knowledgeable on dating?” Peter asks.

“Magazines, duh.”

“Oh my god you two are insufferable,” Talia groans and pushes past them back into her room.

Of course, they follow her back in, bickering at each other as she grabs her wallet and keys. Then they follow her down the hall and the main staircase to the foyer. They are still bickering, and Talia does her best to shoo them off as she shoves herself out of the door. She doesn’t even make it to her car before she’s being pestered again.

“ _Use protection, I don’t need a niece or a nephew yet!_ ” Peter says.

“Fuck you!” Talia calls back before shoving herself into the car, starting it up a little too quickly and speeding down the road. While she loves her siblings, they can really put her on edge, even when they’re trying to be helpful.

The trip back into town has her blasting her pop station the whole way. It drowns out the sound of pedestrians, of other cars, of her own nervous heartbeat. While Madonna and Prince help soothe her, they aren’t as effective when she pulls up to Charlie’s. The outside is the same as when her parents were teens back in the fifties.

Talia shuts off her car, sitting in the fading air-conditioned cabin until she finally decides to get out. The sun is still high in the sky, providing California’s typical summer heat. It makes her skin crawl and start to get tacky. She rushes into the diner, relieved when she is once again in air conditioning.

A waitress from behind the front counter nods at her and gestures at her to take a seat wherever she’d like. Talia looks around but sees no sign of Samuel; he’s probably running late. Her frayed nerves split even more as she grabs a corner booth at the windowed part of the diner. The cushions dip beneath her, the leather threatening to stick to her bare legs the second she gets up.

She ends up with water and two menus while she waits, awkwardly telling the waitress twice that she’ll wait for the other person to arrive. Talia is getting angry, ready to get up and go back home pathetically with her tail between her legs.

The bell above the door rings and her eyes are pulled up, Samuel is out of breath and slightly sweaty. It doesn’t stop a smile crossing his face as he walks over, waving off the waitress as he takes a seat across from her.

“Sorry I’m late, I was suck on restock since Julia went home sick,” Samuel explains, elbows braced on the table. His eyes move from hers and Talia bites her lip as his gaze washes over her. “I lied at the store...you’re not beautiful, you’re breathtaking,” he says after a moment.

“Flattery will only get you so far,” Talia warns, “but thank you.”

Samuel chuckles and picks up his menu, scanning it over for a while. When asked why she doesn’t have her menu open, she tells him after waiting for thirty minutes she practically memorized her order.

The waitress comes back, finally taking their orders. She gets a mushroom swiss with sweet potato fries. Samuel gets a bacon cheese burger with regular fries.

“So,” Talia starts, fingers drumming on the table a bit, “you have me here. What now?”

“I told you, I want to get to know the girl who nearly knocked off my head off with a football,” Samuel says.

“I’ve been told I have one hell of a throw,” she teases.

“I’d say so, threw me backwards a couple of feet,” he agrees, ducking his head down, “so what do you do?”

Talia tells him about college and how she’s got a bachelor’s in business and communications. She doesn’t tell him that it is the majors most Alphas-to-be choose but lies and tells him she’s following her dad’s footsteps in the family business. In return he tells her about how he’s finishing up his first year in college, on the path to getting an English degree. Samuel has a thing for writing and reading, and the way he talks about it with passion makes Talia feel warm inside.

Their food comes shortly after the college conversation and after she finds out he’s eighteen, the same age as Peter.

“What about family? Got any siblings?” Samuel asks as he washes down his fries with a sip of Coke.

Talia raises her eyebrows, pausing from her meal, “where did you grow up again?”

“South of here, in Hill Valley,” Samuel says, “why?”

“Everyone here knows about my family, I just assumed you knew too,” Talia says, “last name Hale. We live out in the woods; my family has been here since the town was founded.”

“No shit?” Samuel asks.

Talia laughs, “no shit. My parents are George and Eleanor Hale. I have a few grandparents, aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces...I have a younger brother Peter and an even younger sister Josephine.”

“That’s a big family,” he notes thoughtfully.

“What about you?” Talia asks.

“My parents are split, Mom is off living with her second husband in New Mexico. Dad still lives in Hill Valley,” Samuel says.

“No siblings?”

“Not full, I have two half siblings. My mom and her husband had twin boys. They’re eleven right now,” he tells her, finishing off his fries, “I don’t see them too often. Except for big holidays.”

She frowns into her drink, “sorry I brought it up. I didn’t mean to—.”

“You didn’t do anything. It happened when I was young, I’m used to it,” Samuel brushes off. Talia inhales deep and reaches out, getting a grasp on his emotions. He doesn’t seem upset, if anything he feels relaxed and calm.

Talia takes the last bite of her burger, wiping her hands on her napkin, “favorite color?”

“Dark green, like army green, I guess. You?”

“Turquoise.”

“That’s rather vibrant.”

“Well army green is dull.”

Samuel smirks, “touché.”

Talia snickers, leaning back against her seat, using a fry to scoop up the last of her ketchup. She chews thoughtfully, looking back at Samuel. His hair falls lazily but is swept away from his forehead. His dark eyes were focused on hers as well, a toothy smile crossing his face. Talia tries to fight the smile on her face, but it wins in the end, her grin spreading across her features.

“We should get ice cream,” Samuel suggests.

Talia nods, “I could go for ice cream.”

“Good, because I want to keep talking to you.”

The waitress comes back then, their check placed on the edge of their table. Before Samuel has time to blink Talia grabs it and gets out the money.

“Talia—”

“Hush, you’re buying the ice cream,” Talia says and hands it directly back to the waitress who walks off.

Samuel shakes his head fondly as he slips out of the booth and stands up. He extends his hand out, his wide palm waiting for hers to meet it. Talia reaches out and gets up, letting her hand rest in his. Their fingers weave together, his skin rough against her own.

She resists the urge to let out a happy growl at the contact, giving him another smile as they walk out of the diner. Their shoulders brush as they walk down the street towards the ice cream shop, feet falling in time with each other comfortably.

The shop is cold when they walk in, and the man behind the counter gladly takes their orders. Samuel gets mint chocolate chip and she gets strawberry, they both make the right choice and get waffle cones. They take it to go, wanting to walk around a little after their rather grease heavy meal and the conversation doesn’t start back up until they find a shaded park bench.

“You know, you weren’t wearing shoes when you found us at the river,” Samuel states.

Talia feels her stomach sink, “yeah...I don’t like wearing shoes when I go on runs.”

“Doesn’t the forest cut your feet up?”

“Not too badly,” she tells him, “I just think I run better without them.”

“Huh. I’ll have to try it,” he shrugs.

“It’s not for everyone, tell me how it goes?” Talia asks playfully.

Samuel gives her a wink, “of course.”

Their ice cream becomes their main priority once the heat starts to melt it, both of them lapping at it before it starts to drip. The mint from his dessert mixes with his woodsy body soap and natural earthy tones. It’s nice, really nice.

“So, how’d I do?” Samuel asks.

“Pretty good, I’m full. There’s been good conversation. I’d say you knocked it out of the park,” Talia tells him.

The smug smile he has makes her eyes roll.

“Don’t let that go to your head.”

“Too late.”

Talia laughs and stands up, holding her hand out to him this time, “walk me back to my car?”

“Of course,” he nods, taking her hand again.

The walk is short despite the sidewalk being crowded with the late afternoon food rush. They do make more small talk, learn little things about each other. Before she knows it she’s in front of her car not really wanting to head out yet. It feels like a natural end, but she hopes there will be a next time. Samuel moves to say something, but she shakes her head and opens the car door, leaning in to grab paper and a pen from her glovebox.

She writes down her home phone number and extends it out to him.

“This was really nice, I hope we can do it again,” she tells him.

“Of course, I’d like the same,” he says shyly.

Talia can’t help but step into his space and wrap her arms around his shoulders, getting her face as close to his neck as possible. She gets a low chuckle out of him as he holds her back, his arms wrapping around her waist firmly. It’s here where she finds his scent at its purest; it makes her head swim and her shoulders loosen.

When they break apart, she holds onto her car door, one leg crossed over the other awkwardly.

“I guess I’ll see you around then?” She asks.

Samuel nods seriously, “I’ll call you.”

Relief floods through her as she waves, “bye, Samuel.”

“Sam,” he corrects.

“Sam,” Talia repeats, before ducking into her car. She watches as he tucks his hands into his pockets and walks away until her view is obstructed by other cars.

She collapses against her seat with a sigh, head rolling back. That was a pretty good first date.

* * *

 

“Come on, we finally have the movie you’re taking forever!”

Talia groans as her mother yells towards her father who is rustling in the kitchen. Most of the pack is out in the living room, curled up on the couches and floor with several pillows and blankets spread out.

Peter huffs, “is it really worth waiting for him?”

“Just because your father is slow doesn’t mean you should be rude Pete,” their grandfather reminds him with a flat look. Josephine smirks and obviously doesn’t hide it very well because their brother is suddenly smacking the back of her head.

“Jesus you have the kids fighting George,” her mother sighs.

Their father comes into the room with three bowls of popcorn in his arms, setting them onto the coffee table with practiced ease. Then the phone goes off, making everyone let out an annoyed sound.

“Peter. Josie. Knock it off, I’ll be right back,” their dad instructs before returning to the kitchen to answer the phone.

Talia leans against the pillows and tries to ignore the insanity that is her family. That is until her father calls her name and tells her some guy named Sam is asking for her. Josephine gives her an excited look, but Talia is running too fast to return it, nearly vaulting over the dining table to get to the phone.

“Thanks Dad. Start the movie without me,” Talia tells him, waving him off before putting the phone to her ear, “Sam! Hi.”

“ _Told you I’d call_ ,” Samuel says, smile evident in his tone.

“That you did. So, what has you calling me?”

“ _I miss you, I want to plan another date_.”

Talia bites her lip, fingers playing with the phone cord, “yeah? Did you have something in mind?”

The other end of the line is quiet for a moment until Samuel suggests, “ _I think you’re probably better at football than I am, but I am betting I could kick your ass at bowling_.”

“Bowling? Are you sure you want to challenge me again?” Talia asks.

“ _I’m sure. Can you handle it sweetheart?_ ”

“Someone’s cocky.”

Samuel laughs, “ _are you free Friday?_ ”

“I should be, what time?”

“ _Six_?”

“Perfect. You’re talking about the one on Birch Street, right?”

“ _That’s the one, I’ll see you there_?”

“Of course—listen my family was just about to watch a movie, so I kinda have to—”

“ _Go hang with your family. I’ll see you on Friday Talia._ ”

“Bye, Sam,” Talia says and hangs up the phone. Excitement runs through her like a bullet, fingers wiggling to expend some of the excitement. She takes a moment to collect herself before walking back to the living room; however, she finds the movie still not started, the whole family staring at her with curious looks.

Her father looks unimpressed, “who is this Samuel and why is he calling you _sweetheart_?”

Talia shrinks a little bit, “he’s this guy I met, really sweet. We went out to a late lunch a few days ago...he wants to take me out again soon.”

“Is he human?” Her mother asks.

“Yes, but that shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Talia asks, squaring herself a little more.

“Stand down Talia Marie, we are asking you this for the pack’s safety,” her father commands.

Her eyes flash gold and she deflates, bowing her head, “he doesn’t seem to know about us. I checked to see if he smelled like a typical hunter. He doesn’t. Dad he’s really sweet I promise you.”

Her grandmother clears her throat, “can we please start the movie and worry about this later. There seems to be no threat tonight, let it rest son.”

Despite her father being the Alpha, the word of his mother sometimes overrode his own. Her father pats the spot beside him and she walks back, reclaiming her spot. Once she is curled into his side, he throws an arm around her and kisses her forehead.

“I just want what’s best for you and the pack,” he mutters.

“I know Dad, me too.”

Peter glances over to them and raises his eyebrows, “you two sound like a sappy daytime drama.”

“ _Peter_ ,” his father groans exasperatedly.

 


	2. 1985 (pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I hate you, I should’ve been the first person to know about your boyfriend,” Claudia huffs, hands on her hips. 
> 
> “I brought you wine and ice cream to make up for it,” Talia says and holds up the grocery bag.
> 
> “I love that you support my underage drinking, get inside."

Talia is bouncing on the balls of her feet, anxiously waiting for the door to open.

Footsteps approach from the other side and the door is all but thrown open; the familiar scent of rosemary pours from the apartment.

“I hate you, I should’ve been the first person to know about your boyfriend,” Claudia huffs, hands on her hips. Like usual her outfit is bright; flared yellow pants and a baby pink sweater tucked into the high waist. Her long brown hair is half up in a ponytail secured with a white scrunchy.

Claudia Gajos is the most adorable person she knows.

“I brought you wine and ice cream to make up for it,” Talia says and holds up the grocery bag.

“I love that you support my underage drinking, get inside,” Claudia says and steps aside to let Talia in. The apartment only has three rooms; a bedroom, a bathroom, and the rest is just open space with a kitchen in it. Obviously, there is furniture, mismatched, which suits Claudia as well as her clothing choices.

Talia grabs two spoons for the ice cream and moves to grab glasses from the kitchen.

“Screw the glasses, that’s too many dishes. We’ll share from the bottle,” Claudia says while moving around the pillows on the couch, so they could sprawl out.

Talia walks back over, kicking off her shoes before curling up on the couch with Claudia beside her. She uses her claws to wedge the cork out of the bottle of rosé while Claudia uses her teeth to take off the plastic seal of the ice cream. It’s vanilla sprinkle—nobody is ever too old for vanilla sprinkle.

“Tell me everything; I may be human, but I’ll know when you skip something,” Claudia says seriously.

“I met him at the river that runs through our land, him and his buddies were swimming rather loudly.”

“Did you give him the whole  _ get off my property  _ spiel?”

Talia smirks through a sip of wine, “of course I did. He gave me shit about it too, so I threw his football at him hard enough to send him flying back and I kicked their boombox into the water.”

Claudia chokes on her ice cream, face red as she cackles in delight.

“Oh my god Tallie he sounds perfect for you,” she says finally getting her breath back.

“He works at the supermarket, I saw him again when I was getting groceries with Jo,” Talia says, “and he asked me out on a date. To Charlie’s and then to ice cream.”

“What kind of ice cream?”

“Um...mint chocolate chip.”

“Good man, he’s a keeper,” Claudia nods.

Talia raises an eyebrow at her, which prompts Claudia to sigh.

“ Kto się czubi, ten się lubi,” Claudia says, her native language sounding gorgeous, “and the rough English translation is those who argue like each other. You hate mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

“We didn’t argue about it though,” Talia explains.

Claudia gives her a flat look, “but one day you will. There is probably going to be one mint chocolate chip and one strawberry tub of ice cream left in the store, but you guys have money for just one. Then you will fight over it.”

“Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?” Talia laughs.

“A magician never tells her secrets,” Claudia says, sipping at the wine.

Talia continues to tell her best friend all about the date, everything they talked about. She tells her about the phone calls that take hours of their time, mostly because they’ve only been on a few dates and Samuel’s job has been scheduling him for hours that makes planning difficult. The whole time Talia is talking, Claudia is watching her with a raised eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk that moves the smattering of freckles and moles on her face.

“This guy is a lot different than Lucas, huh?” Claudia asks.

“Sam feels....right. He’s sweet, funny, sometimes a pain in my ass. Claudia, he smells wonderful—”

“Wow, you’re scent drunk.”

“ _Scent_ _drunk_...Claudia you’re ridiculous,” Talia says fondly.

“You love me,” Claudia sing songs.

“Lord knows why, now let’s see what’s on TV?” Talia asks.

“I think we can catch SNL if you want? I also have a few things on VHS too,” Claudia nods and gets up to turn everything on. Talia smiles to herself behind a bite of ice cream; not only does she have a really good boyfriend, but she also has a really good best friend.

* * *

 

The first phone call leads to an explosion of dates throughout the summer. Bowling had been fun, and she totally kicked Samuel’s ass at it too. They went on a bike ride through the city. Had a picnic and used left over sparklers from Independence Day. She’s even had dinner with Samuel’s father Patrick who is just as kind and funny as his son.

Talia really likes her boyfriend.

Currently he’s trusting her to lead them through the woods off the trails. It took some convincing, but she’s known these woods since she was old enough to walk. Hell, she knows how many steps it takes to get from her house to the Nemeton and back. Their hands are locked tight as they weave through trees and step high enough not to catch on any underbrush.

“So where are we going on this hellish day?” Samuel asks.

“It’s boiling hot, so I thought the river might be a nice way to cool down,” Talia tells him while sidestepping a tree.

“The same one you chucked my boombox in?”

“The one and only, but this time you get to chuck your super-hot girlfriend into it.”

The man beside her laughs low and deep, the sound joyous as it echoes through the trees. It prompts him to let go of her hand and throw an arm around her shoulder. Talia leans into the familiar touch, her own arm looping behind him.

It doesn’t take much longer for them to arrive at the river, the cool flow of water looking divine on a day like this. Talia spreads out the blanket she brought in her bag, setting all her things on it before stripping off her clothes. Josephine suggested a two piece, the high wasted one with the brightly colored strapless top.

Samuel has stopped moving, and it prompts Talia to look over her shoulder to see him watching her with a goofy grin on his face.

“You’re right,  _ super- _ hot girlfriend.”

Talia laughs, throwing her clothes onto the blanket, “not too bad yourself Sam. Now hurry up and get into the water.”

With that she turns and approaches the edge of the water, flinching a bit when the water first touches her feet. It isn’t cold, but it is definitely something she needs to adjust to. She can hear Samuel try and sneak up on her and for once she allows it, keeping her eyes trained on the water. Strong arms wrap around her waist and her feet leave the ground, it’s not what she’s expecting, and it makes her squeal.

“Sam!”

“You said I could chuck you, so…” Samuel says darkly as he laughs.

Talia flails as she’s thrown into the water, letting herself be caught by the cool river. With swift strokes she resurfaces, her hair mattered against her head and back as she treads water. Samuel is keeling over with laughter, toned stomach muscles flexing with each gasping wheeze. She takes the private moment to admire the dark dusting of hair across his chest and the definition of his arms.

“Having fun?” She asks.

Samuel nods, “so much fun.”

Talia lifts a hand out of the water, crooking a finger, “come here.”

The man dives in, and Talia flashes her eyes to see where he is under the surface. By the time he surfaces her eyes are back to their natural brown hue and she’s wearing a soft smile. She raises a hand, using its force to splash him with water. Samuel sputters and retaliates quickly. It ends up being an all-out war seeing who can splash the most while getting away the fastest. By the time they call a truce they’re back in the shallows where they can stand, taking a moment to catch their breath.

“Hey,” he mutters, his finger tilting her chin up.

Talia looks at him, catching the way his eyes darken. Despite being soaked with river water it doesn’t stop their scents from shifting into something richer. Notes of apple cinnamon and clove burn her nose, it makes her heart speed up, and while he’s human, she can tell he notices the change as well.

His hand moves from her chin, fingertips trailing down to her collar and shoulder only to fall to her arm. She lets him pull her closer, allowing the weightlessness the water around them to carry her. Samuel’s hands find themselves under her thighs as her legs loop themselves around his waist.

Their faces are closer now, their noses almost touching, and Talia feels too warm all of a sudden.

“Hi,” she echoes back, eyes falling to his lips as they curled into a smirk.

Samuel doesn’t say anything and neither does Talia. They follow instinct as they close the space between them. Her hands weave into his hair, the strands giving her something to hold onto as the rest falls away. All this is sensory overload; from touch to taste. His teeth bite at her lower lip and it takes all she has not to growl.

The kiss only deepens from there, curious hands explore and lips trail across skin.

Talia leaves a rather big mark on the left side of his neck, pale skin now a bright reddish purple. Samuel finds her lips again, but the fever behind it stalls as he pulls back. It leaves her feeling confused, eyebrows furrowing as she silently prompts him to speak.

“I’d rather we do this not in a lake. Preferably on a bed,” he says sheepishly.

Oh.

Talia lets her forehead rest against his with a nod, “that sounds a lot better.”

“What would you do without me?” He teases, hand rubbing her back in small circles.

“Be miserable probably,” she says honestly.

Samuel pauses, his face shutting down like it always does when he’s thinking hard, “then let’s hope you don’t have to be without me. Ever.”

“Good plan,” Talia agrees, kissing him again.

* * *

 

“I think I might vomit,” Talia admits as she looks over herself in the bathroom mirror.

“Don’t do that, you’ll ruin your dress,” Peter says as he adjusts his tie.

Her brother is right, and it is a nice dress too. It’s a deep red wine color; lace sleeves of the same color went to her elbows. The skirt only fell to her knees, the structure loose and breathable. Her hair was in an updo done by her mother, thus about a gallon of hairspray went into it. Josephine is undergoing the same treatment in one of the other bathrooms while the rest of the family is rushing to prepare for the massive Christmas Eve dinner.

“I mean I get it,” Peter says, “your mysterious human boyfriend is entering our den for the first time with his father—”

“Don’t be a fucking asshole, Peter, I will tear you a new one,” Talia growls.

Her little brother flinches back but flashes his eyes in defiance.

“Really, Talia? I’m the asshole for telling it like it is?” Peter snarls back.

“ _ Talia Marie. Peter Andrew. Asses in the kitchen. Now. _ ”

The two of them froze at the booming roar of their Alpha’s voice. It only took a second for them to sprint towards the stairs, bypassing them completely by jumping down. Some of their family members and guests look amused by the situation as a whole. Talia happened to be terrified.

Their father had obviously been waiting for them considering he was standing at attention with his arms crossed. He looks rather put together in his button up and vest paired with black slacks. However, no matter how put together her father is it will never make up for how terrifying he can be.

They crane their necks down and to the right in a sign of respect.

“What’s going on with you two? Hm?” He asks, voice unusually level given how angry he is.

“Peter is being difficult about me and Sam,” Talia mutters suddenly feeling six again.

“I was just telling you the truth,” Peter defends.

Their father shushes them sharply, and the feeling that spread through the pack bond relented enough to have their heads lift back up. Talia eyes her father straight on, if they are going to teach her to be an Alpha then she’s going to act like it. Her brother remains closed off, his eyes finding the floor rather interesting.

“Here is the real truth,” their father starts, “Sam and his father are coming over for dinner. They are going to be our guests and he is dating Talia. At the same time Sam and his father are complete strangers to all of us, we have no idea who we are letting into our den.”

Talia feels her stomach tie itself into knots, fists balling up at her sides as her father’s reasoning made sense. She isn’t mad he is making sense, she’s mad that Peter is getting a pass to be a dick just by calling it “ _ telling Talia the truth _ ”. Before much more could be said the doorbell echoes through the house, and Talia can tell from the heartbeat alone who it is.

She doesn’t wait for permission, she turns on her heel and marches to the front door to get it. The cool metal knob is stark against her overheated hands. The chilly evening air wafts in, making her skin pebble instantly. Samuel is standing to the left, looking sharp in a button up and a dark colored cardigan. There is a bouquet of dahlias is in his hands suddenly being extended out to her.

“Hey gorgeous,” Samuel greets, kissing her cheek.

“Hi handsome,” Talia says back before turning her attention Patrick who is holding an expensive bottle of bourbon as a peace offering, “and it’s nice to see you as well Patrick.”

The older man gave her a quick side hug before stepping into the house. Neither of them have been inside before, but both of them are equally as taken back. Then again, the entrance can be quite intense considering it spans all three floors in ceiling height.

“Most of us are in the kitchen, we can set the bourbon there and I can find a vase as well,” Talia says, leading the three of them through the dining room and into the kitchen.

The pack was sprawled around the island, helping put the finishing touches on dinner or socializing. She stopped them in front of her parents who were standing at attention, but unlike before they had a softness around them.

“Mom. Dad. This is Samuel and his father Patrick. Guys, these are my parents George and Eleanor,” Talia introduces before side stepping them to find a vase in the cabinet. She watches the exchange from the corner of her eyes. Her father starts it with a firm handshake and thanking them for the alcohol which will do absolutely nothing but is a nice gesture.

Her mother does the most embarrassing thing possible and fawns over how good-looking Samuel is. It is both painfully awkward and comforting knowing her mother approves of her choice in boyfriends.

“Sam.”

Talia spins around at the way Peter spits Samuel’s name like it’s a sin. Samuel turns around to face Peter with a look of dread.

“Peter.”

“Excuse me, but you two know each other?” Her mother asks.

Peter rolls his eyes, “we had a college class together last year. This guy was a major pain in my ass the whole time.”

“I was simply engaging in a friendly classroom debate,” Samuel says in a tone Talia has never heard before. It’s strained, as if it is taking every ounce of restraint to sound calm. It is just her luck that her brother and her boyfriend knew each other beforehand and happen to hate each other.

“You may want to open a dictionary and look up what friendly means, because you were exactly the opposite,” Peter snarks.

Patrick puts a hand over his son’s shoulder, “don’t make a scene son. We’re guests.”

“No—I am incredibly sorry for my son's behavior. Peter can you meet me in the study please?” Their mother asked, voice tight lipped as she slips past them towards the hallway. The middle Hale child doesn’t hide his small growl as he storms off to follow their mother down the hall.

Talia crosses one arm while her free hand covers her face, the last thing she wants is for this night to go completely south. Familiar hands run up and down her back and it pulls her face out of her hand. Samuel is at her side giving her a pinched look.

“I really didn’t know Peter was your brother,” he starts.

“I can’t believe you guys know each other and  _ hate  _ each other.”

Samuel winces, “we’ve never really gotten along.”

“Well neither have we, but I guess I just really wanted my family to like you.”

“We can have all but  _ one _ like me then.”

Talia manages to find the humor in that and chuckle a bit, nodding her head before standing up straighter, “wise boyfriend you are.”

“Knock it off Yoda, we have people to impress,” Samuel smirks, taking her hand before waiting for her to lead him around.

They greet most of her family; they talk about his college studies, their relationship, and of course Samuel asks questions right back at them. Talia is over the moon that her boyfriend seems to be enjoying her family. Of course, she can scent the initial trepidation of each new person she introduces him to, but it fades the more they mingle.

Eventually they all are in the dining room, seated around the giant mahogany table. In the center of the table is the same bouquet of dahlias Samuel and Patrick had brought with them. Sadly it doesn’t quite go with the Christmas decorations; but it makes Talia flush a little, and her eyes dart to her mother who gives her a hidden smile and wink. It gives her a renewed confidence as she plates up, passing around everything she is given so everyone gets an equal chance to get food.

If it were up to Peter, he’d get all the fry bread and it would be all out mayhem.

“So, Patrick,” George starts, sipping at a glass of red wine, “tell us about yourself. I know we’re all curious.”

_ Not subtle _ .

Patrick takes it in stride though, and Talia can tell he’s much like Samuel—silent but when charismatic when necessary.

“Well the dream used to be a marine biology, but I ended up working in a mechanic shop in south Hill Valley,” Patrick says and softly clamps his hand behind Samuel’s neck, “but it’s paying his tuition, so I can’t complain too much.”

“ _ Dad _ ,” Samuel says as his face flushes.

“And the Mrs.?” Her grandfather asks.

Talia inhales sharply, Samuel and his father tense and exchange an awkward look, and the pack knows they struck a nerve. Peter looks delighted with this information, and honestly Talia finds herself nearly clawing her own palm to stop from lunging at him.

“The Mrs. decided that she’d rather live with a man bringing in a dentist’s salary than a mechanic’s,” Patrick says with a bitter tone in his voice.

Talia clears her throat, “well I’m sure you’re about to have a lot more in your pocket, I think you’re our new go-to mechanic.”

Samuel side-eyes her and his shoulders shake with silent laughter, because even she knows that her diversion was terrible. After that the conversation is steered more towards mundane things like thoughts on advancing technology and predictions for another hot summer.

The food is good though. It’s fry bread, and the closest thing to compare it to is naan bread but a little crispier. Then there is some shredded beef and venison—which they hunted earlier that week—with some other toppings like onions, cilantro, and so on.

Samuel asks what it is.

“Fry bread,” Eleanor smiles, obviously taking pleasure in the curiosity, “it’s a traditional Navajo dish. Just load it up with toppings and eat it, of course we’ve taken liberties with what toppings we use.”

“Huh, I didn’t know your family is Native,” Samuel says with no malice behind the words.

Talia shrugs, “never came up, but we’re also Iberian and French hence Peter’s eyes.”

Peter looks up from his food at the mention of his name, and true to her word her brother’s unusually light eyes shine in the lighting. Of course, blue eyes aren’t the end all be all of their French traits but given their other ancestry it’s the only place he could’ve logically gotten them from.

Samuel smirks, “they are beautiful eyes.”

Peter chokes on his food and sputters. The table bursts into laughter, even their grandparents; and just like that the ice is broken. The rest of dinner goes off without a hitch and it’s the nicest family dinner with outsiders they’ve ever had, a Christmas Eve for the record books. By the time the plates are washed up and everyone is retreating to the living room for a game of charades she is held back by her father.

“Yes?” Talia asks hesitantly, voice low.

George pulls her in for a hug, and Talia while confused holds him back and shoves her face into his neck. In return she exposes hers in an act of submission while he scents hers before breaking apart.

“I think you picked well,” he tells her honesty, and that is basically a five-star review.    

Talia is a little star struck but doesn’t have time to respond before Josephine pops her head in with a “ _ come on you guyssss _ ”. The two of them walk into the living room; everyone is situated on the large sectional or on the ground in front of the coffee table. In the corner of the room the well decorated tree, with presents littered beneath it, stands tall and casts the room in a warm glow. Talia sits beside Samuel on the couch, their hands instantly finding each others. 

  
Surprisingly enough Patrick ends up winning because he was the only one to understand Talia’s horrendous attempt at  _ Sixteen Candles _ .


	3. 1986 (pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you finally going to tell me about your eyes?” Samuel asks, and it is the last thing Talia is expecting to hear from him.
> 
> She takes a deep breath and nods, “that’s part of it. There is a lot and I don’t want to freak you out, but I need to tell you everything and I need you to trust me Sam.”
> 
> Her boyfriend’s hands are cupping her cheeks now, his eyes demanding her attention as he stares her down, “Talia. I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to give y'all perspective, Talia is four years older than Samuel and Samuel and Peter are the same age give or take. 
> 
> And don't fucking get weirded out, Derek is canon seven years older than Stiles sooooooooo ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Talia yawns into her pillow, limbs stretching out as she wakes up. The sun seeps through her blinds effectively warming her bedding and making it too bright for her to fall back asleep. She pushes herself out of bed, getting onto her feet and starting off towards the bathroom. As far as she could tell Peter isn’t home and Josephine is still sleeping.

Getting the bathroom all to herself is rare, hell she might even take a bath instead of a shower just to take up time.

She uses the hair tie on her wrist to throw up her hair as she kicks the bathroom door shut with her foot. The first thing she does is relieve herself, promptly flushing the toilet and washing her hands. Once she dries her hands, she looks over herself; blemish free, her eyebrows can go another few days without a touch up, she feels fantastic.

Talia suddenly doesn’t feel as fantastic.

The smell of the hand soap she’s been using for years suddenly smells foul. It is the worst thing she’s ever smelled. Last night’s dinner, or whatever is left of it, churns in her stomach and before she can turn around to the toilet she’s hunching over the sink and retching into it with a hellish force.

Talia dry heaves for a moment after the first wave leaves her, shoulders shaking as she looks into the poor ruined sink.

“What the hell?” She growls, glaring at the soap.

She runs the water and as gross as it is, uses her hand to get her vomit completely down the drain. When she washes her hands this time, she uses the bodywash from the shower which sits much better with her.

Talia eyes the old soap again, and before she can think better of it she grabs it and throws it in the garbage. She doesn’t want that anywhere near her if it means she’ll throw up again.

“Tals, you alright in there?”

She jumps at the voice, hand covering her speeding heart.

“I’m fine Mom...I just was using my toothbrush to clean my tongue. I started gagging,” Talia says shakily.

There is a moment of silence before she hears a _fisk_ of claws and the lock mechanism in the door clicks open. Her mother is there, eyes narrow and arms across her chest. Talia swallows hard, noting that she doesn’t even have her toothbrush out.

“No toothbrush, it smells like bile not mint, and your heart told me that it was a lie,” she says calmly and steps forward, the back of her hand pressing against Talia’s forehead, “are you feeling alright?”

Talia shakes her head, “obviously not.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I went to the bathroom, then when I went to wash my hands the smell of the soap got to me and I threw up,” Talia admitted, “and I don’t think I’ve been poisoned by anything.”

For a moment silence passes over them, and Talia is growing worried. Her mother’s face is screwed up in concentration before it suddenly isn’t; instead, her face pales unhealthily and her hand flies to her mouth. If Talia squints, she’s pretty sure her mother’s eyes are glassy. Then she’s being pulled into a hug, the comforting touch of her mother seeping into her bones as she’s rocked back and forth.

“Um...Mom, what’s going on?” Talia asks, nervously holding her back.

Her mother pulls back and squeezes her hand, “go get a sweater on, it’s chilly. Meet me in the kitchen.”

With that her mother vanishes around the corner. It leaves Talia standing there feeling like a complete idiot and utterly confused. She listens to the instructions given and returns to her room to throw on her old BHHS soccer hoodie before making her way downstairs.

She finds her mother sitting at the dining table, a mug of coffee in her hands, a blank look on her face. The chair beside her has a steaming mug of ginger tea which Talia knows is a human home remedy for an upset stomach. She’d seen Claudia drink it when she had the flu.

“Okay, thank you for freaking me out,” Talia says and takes a seat, crossing both her legs and handles the hot mug carefully, “care to tell me what’s going on.”

“Listen honey,” her mother whispers, her hand covering Talia’s free one, “listen to your body and you’ll understand.”

Talia frowns but closes her eyes. She can hear her lungs fill with air with every breath, she can hear the rhythmic thud of her heart followed by the whooshing of her blood flowing through her veins, she can even hear the hairs on her head rustle with every movement.

She pushes herself to hear the answer her mother has found.

_Thuthump-thuthump-thuthump._

Talia opens her eyes finding them to be blurred already, she doesn’t realize she is already crying until her tears roll off her face onto her bare legs. A sob escapes her throat as she zeros in on the tiny heartbeat that is hidden behind her own but mimics it so perfectly.

“Oh my god,” Talia wheezes, curling in on herself.

“Oh, my baby girl, come here,” her mother says and opens her arms.

Talia leans into the hug this time, hiding her face in her mother’s neck. She doesn’t know how long she cries, or how many times her mother tells her it’ll be okay, or how she’s going to tell Samuel this.

She can’t. Not without telling him about the supernatural. She trusts him with every cell in her body, but some of the people they love the most don’t have it in them to be apart of that secret.

At some point she’s all cried out, and she has no choice but to pull away from her mother and face this like the almost twenty-two-year-old adult that she is. A throat clears on the other end of the room which gets both her and her mother’s attention.

“Did I miss something?” Her father asks sounding worried, looking a little sleep worn seeing as he’s still in his pajamas.

“Talia and I were, um, just—”

“I’m pregnant,” Talia says, because there is no point in lying, “and it’s Sam’s.”

It sounds weird coming out of her mouth, it sounds _real_.

Her father freezes, eyes wide before they harden, flashing deep red.

“George don’t you dare right now. Talia is very freaked out and the last thing she needs is you to go off on here—not that you should. _Never_ for this,” her mother growls, standing her ground.

It’s like her words melt the fight away in her father who is rounding the table and approaching them quickly. Talia finds herself sandwiched between her parents, their combined scents helping to ease some of her worry.

“We’re going to have to tell him everything,” Talia whispers.

“The sooner the better, if he doesn’t take it well then your mother and I will handle it,” her father says.

Her mother frowns, “how soon is soon?”

“I can’t lie to him, I don’t like it,” Talia says, “we were supposed to go out to dinner tonight...but I think I should invite him over. Like you said the sooner the better.”

“You _just_ found out, are you sure?” Her mother asks.

Talia nods before grabbing her tea and walking out of the room without a word, making her way back upstairs. Josephine is stumbling out of her room, more like a zombie considering how tired she looks. The youngest doesn’t even see Talia as she shoves herself into the bathroom. Talia feels a bit lucky as she gets to her room without anybody stopping her.

She sets her mug down before flopping back into the bed, staring at the ceiling for a while. Before she can really think about it she’s yanking off her hoodie and shirt until she’s got nothing but her sleep shorts on. Talia lets her hand run across her lower stomach, allowing her hearing guide her hand to where the tiny heartbeat rests.

Talia feels a fresh wave of tears flood into her eyes but this time it’s not of panic. That is her baby, she has a tiny little person that is going to grow up and be a much bigger person one day. She doesn’t know if she should feel happy or fearful, but regardless she needs to have some normalcy.

She stays in bed for an extra thirty minutes before getting up to dress herself. She ends up wearing a thin turtleneck and a pair of jeans. Putting on her jeans makes her think about when she won’t be able to wear them anymore, as her stomach will eventually be too big. Shaking the thought of out her head she walks back downstairs and makes herself some toast for breakfast with a bowl of cereal to accompany it.

Throughout the day a few things happen. Josephine asks her if she is okay, to that Talia tells her it’s fine but she’ll know soon enough. Peter comes home presumably from some party he found his way into and asks why it smells depressing. Their parents tell him to wash the booze off his breath. Of course, Talia calls Samuel and asks to change plans. This man is too good for her when he agrees, telling her that spending time with her is all that matters.

Talia cries for the third time that day after the phone call.

Her nerves are shot, and she can’t stop occasionally touching her stomach. Nothing is there and logically she knows this, but it’s more of like a reminder than anything else since she can’t see anything yet.

Josephine asks for Talia to braid her hair, and of course Talia says yes. The methodical movements it takes to create two tight Dutch braids pulls her out of her head for a bit. All she can do is focus on the movement of her hands. She’s just finished with the last one when there is a knock at the door.

“Is that Sam?” Josephine asks.

“Yeah,” Talia says but doesn’t move.

Her sister eyes her, “are...you gonna go get him?”

“Yeah,” Talia says again, and this time moves. Her bare feet shuffle across hardwood flooring until she’s at the door, pulling it open to expose a smiling Samuel. “We have a lot to talk about,” she blurts out in greeting.

The brilliant shining smile on his face vanishes.

“We do?” He asks.

“We do,” Talia nods, taking his hand to pull him towards the back porch, “come on.”

The front door is shut promptly, and they make their way out to the back porch. She makes her way the swinging bench and motions for Samuel to join her. He sits as close as he can to her, his arm swinging around to cradle her close.

“What’s going on sweetheart?” He asks, voice full of concern and worry.

Talia sighs, head tilting back until it rests on his arm. Her eyes slip shut as she tries to think of a way to say everything, she needs to without it sounding insane.

“Are you finally going to tell me about your eyes?” Samuel asks, and it is the last thing Talia is expecting to hear from him.

Her head snaps up and she looks at him owlishly, “what about my eyes?”

“At first, I thought it was just a lighting thing, but it kept happening. Only for a short second each time, but one moment they’re brown….a beautiful brown and the next they’re this bright gold color,” he confesses, sounding a bit shy about it.

Talia takes a deep breath and nods, “that’s part of it. There is _a lot_ and I don’t want to freak you out, but I need to tell you everything and I need you to trust me Sam.”

Her boyfriend’s hands are cupping her cheeks now, his eyes demanding her attention as he stares her down, “Talia. I trust you.”

Talia looks at Samuel, her hands coming up to gently hold his wrists as his hands remain on her face. She calls upon her wolf, letting it rise through until the familiar weight behind her irises appear. They’re so close she can see their reflection in his eyes which go wide, but he doesn’t flinch away.

“What else?” He asks slowly.

“Promise you won’t run?”

“Promise.”

Another moment passes, and she lets the beta shift consume her. She straightens her fingers so when her claws come out, she doesn’t cut his hands. Her facial bones crack and shift into their lupine state. Her ears lengthen to their points as do her upper and lower canines.

Samuel flinches then, and she can hear his heart racing behind his ribs.

“ _Talia_ ,” he breathes nervously.

She can’t meet his eyes, so she focuses on her hands that are in her lap, “I’m a werewolf. Most of my family are werewolves too except for a few who were born human.”

Minutes pass, and she can feel Samuel looking at her nonstop obviously trying to piece this all together. She feels like a bug under a microscope with no way out. After a few more moments of crippling silence she lets the shift fade until all of her features are human again. It forces her to look up then, to prove to Samuel that she’s still her even if her face can change.

“Werewolves,” Samuel rasps, smelling sour like tart apples.

Talia nods, “yes.”

“This is insane, I mean... _werewolves_.”

Samuel leans back, away from her, disbelief on his face. Talia bites her lip and decides she hates feeling this raw and vulnerable. The conversation fades for a bit, both of them too stubborn and caught up in thoughts to even try. Except they have to, she has to, Samuel has the right to know about the baby.

He has to know that even if it’ll nearly kill her, he has the right to walk away from it all.

“There’s something else,” Talia says.

“More?”

“Not about werewolves. Well, I mean there is a lot about the supernatural you don’t know—but this is about _us_.”

Samuel doesn’t say anything, but the smell of hurt doubles and makes her heart ache. Talia pulls her legs up to her chest, trying to steady herself and collect her thoughts.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Samuel asks once again breaking the silence.

Talia goes rigid, shaking her head, “no! No, that is absolutely not what this is about.”

“Then…?”

“I’m pregnant,” Talia says in a small voice.

The world slows down then. She can hear both of their hearts hammering along with the smaller heartbeat inside of her. The sounds of everything around them fade out, it’s like a silent movie. She can see the shock on Samuel’s face and the way his jaw goes slack, but the gasp didn’t reach her ears. The pack inside is probably losing their shit but Talia can’t bother herself to listen in.

The world starts speeding up again as Samuel stands up, leaving her swinging on the bench. She doesn’t hesitate to follow his movement and quickly gets on her own two feet.

“Sam,” Talia, “I know this is a lot to take in. I’m freaking out too. I mean shit you’re eighte—”

“Almost nineteen,” Samuel interjects.

“—and I can’t ask you to be a part of my world and to be a dad, but selfishly, I want you to be.”

Samuel grimaces and Talia hates that she is the reason behind it. She’s horrified when he starts walking down the stairs of the deck, the grass beneath his feet crunching as he starts to round back to the front of the house. For a moment she doesn’t move, too shocked to see him actually leaving, but she’s rushing after him.

“Oh my god—Sam!” She calls, catching up to him quickly.

Her father is already out front, close to Samuel’s old beat up car. He doesn’t seem angry at Sam per se, but there is an undertone of irritation. Disappointment is there too. The strongest emotional scent she picks up from him is a fierce protectiveness.

Samuel doesn’t stop moving though, he strolls right up to her father but makes no move to get into the car. Talia runs over when her father squares his shoulders, looking much taller than he actually is. She wedges herself between them when his light-colored eyes fade to red.

“You will not tell a single soul about my family’s secret, do you understand? It’s not some game. There are people out in this world that will do anything to hunt us down and kill us. I am a man who will do anything to make sure that nothing happens to my family. Am I being clear?” Her father asks firmly.

“Yes Sir,” Samuel nods, “now may I get in my car?”

Her father scoffs and steps away, “be my guest.”

Talia watches as Samuel sidesteps her and opens his car door. She grabs it before he gets in and closes it; her eyes feel puffy and bloodshot from tears. He looks like he’s holding everything back, emotions hidden behind this massive wall he’s put up.

“So, this is it? You’re just going to leave?” She asks, voice hoarse.

Samuel frowns and shakes his head, “I just need time, Talia. This is a lot to handle right now...I need space.”

“Space?” Talia asks nervously.

A hand covers hers, squeezing ever so slightly, “this isn’t a goodbye—”

“Just go Samuel,” Talia says, stepping back from the car and from his touch.

Suddenly she’s standing in the middle of their lawn watching Samuel’s car get further and further away, leaving a dust trail behind it. Talia feels like her lungs aren’t working, like everything around her is falling apart, and before she even realizes it, she’s taking off running deep into the woods.

* * *

 

“What the fuck happened Talia?” Claudia asks as Talia sits at her front door, using a wet cloth to get the dirt off her hands and feet.

Talia growls lowly, rubbing at her feet hard enough for the skin to start turning pink, “I’m pregnant with Sam’s baby—oh, and I told Sam about the pack.”  

The brunette’s eyes go wide, the amber colored irises flickering down to Talia’s stomach.

“Bad timing, but I can’t wait to be their godmother,” Claudia says softly, “but first I need to go find Sam and rip his testicles off. I mean if he knows, but you’re _here_ and _crying_...he must’ve not taken it well I assume?”

“He said it was a lot and he needed space...Claudia he’s probably going to break up with me.”

“How do you know that? You’re assuming the worst, maybe he just needs a day to come to terms with the existence of werewolves and he fact he’ll be a dad in nine months,” Claudia reasons.

Talia frowns, “you didn’t need a day. You literally told me you could give a shit if I was half dog, which still is not a nice joke.”

“That is because I really don’t give a shit if you’re half dog,” Claudia laughs, “and I’m sure Samuel will come to the same conclusion eventually.”

“Eventually can be tomorrow, next week, a month, nine months, a—” Talia lists.

“Try being less of a pessimist about it. You love him, right?” Claudia asks.

“Obviously,” Talia says.

“And he loves you, right?” Claudia continues.

“Yes.”

Her friend shrugs and helps Talia to her feet, “then he’ll come around.”

Talia sighs knowing there is no breaking Claudia’s optimistic spirit. Instead she lets herself be directed to the dining table and sits when a chair is pulled out for her. Claudia gets her a glass of water before returning to the kitchen, gathering food on the island counter.

“Claudia...whatcha up to?” Talia asks.

The Polish woman swings around holding a bag of potatoes, “comfort food. Potato pancakes. Also, I have made the executive decision that you are sleeping over. You need time away from pack, they’ll be breathing down your neck the second you get home.”

Talia nods and leans forward, letting her head rest on her crossed arms. Her eyes slip shut from exhaustion, every muscle in her body ached from the run and her head hurt from the panic. The sounds of a knife slicing potatoes and hot oil frying the pancakes make a good distraction for her.

When a plate is places on the table with a loud klank ,Talia flinches and sits upright.

Golden flaky potato pancakes are on one serving dish, and by smell alone Talia can tell Claudia made some sour cream horseradish sauce to go with it.

“Hey, I know you’re picky, that’s why you get applesauce,” Claudia says and puts the applesauce near Talia for dipping.

Talia smiles fondly, “I love you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Obviously not be eating delicious pancakes,” Claudia jokes, “but I love you too. Now please eat your feelings, it’s not like it’ll ever go to your hips anyways.”

“Jealous?” Talia teases.

“Hell no, I’ll find me a man who loves me. Potato hips and all,” Claudia says, wincing before adding, “but I will help you and your man first.”

Talia frowns but nods, taking a bite of the still hot pancake, “of course.”

They finish off the fried pancakes, and Talia feels the grease bomb in her stomach, but she doesn’t feel like throwing up so that’s good. She showers, still feeling grimy from the day, and borrows pajamas from Claudia.

Their conversations don’t touch Samuel. They laugh, they watch TV, she ends up painting Claudia’s nails an obnoxious electric yellow that only a girl like Claudia can pull off. Her own nails are red by the end of the night. Both of them now curling into Claudia’s bed, and Talia feels comfortable.

“Thank you,” Talia yawns into the back of her hand.

“Anytime,” Claudia mumbles, “now get some rest, my godchild needs to have a good night’s sleep as well.”

Talia snorts and turns on her side, letting her eyes slip shut and consciousness fade.

 


	4. 1986 (pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia shrugs, “I think they’ll get used to each other.”
> 
> Peter practically throws Samuel over his head and into deeper water, only for the older man to resurface coughing up water.
> 
> “Or not,” Josephine winces.
> 
> Talia sighs, “...or not.”

Three days pass and Talia feels like she is slowly losing her mind.

When she came back from Claudia’s her pack all but latched onto her and never let go. It is like everyone is stepping on thin ice whenever they are around her. Dinner has been all her favorites from lasagna to venison steaks. When the TV is on, it’s only the shows she likes. If someone is in a bad mood, they keep it reigned in and fake happiness around her.

Talia hates it.

She’s sitting on the couch with Peter who is holding her close, playing with her hair lazily. An old rerun of _Miami Vice_ is playing on low volume.

“If it’s a boy you should name it after me,” Peter says out of the blue.

Talia freezes and laughs hard enough to make her stomach hurt.

“Should I be offended? I was being serious,” Peter adds.

“Can I think about it? I mean what if it’s a girl?” Talia asks.

“You can still name her Peter. It’d be modern.”

Talia laughs again and Peter joins in this time, and they both take a few moments to calm down. As she sprawls out, trying to get more comfortable, they hear a car pulling up. At first Talia thinks it’s her aunt who ended up taking Josephine to school. Except the footsteps are heavier and the stride is off. By the time Talia recognizes the heartbeat she’s already ripping herself out of Peter’s hold to get herself to the door. The hinges groan with the force she uses to open the door, and for a brief moment she’s afraid she’ll tear the whole thing out of its frame.

The footsteps come to a stop and Talia looks up to see Samuel approaching the front steps. His hair is slicked back like it is after he takes a shower, he still smells fresh from it too.

Her grip on the doorknob threatens to put finger sized dents into it.

“Do you remember that time last summer, at the lake, when I asked you what you’d do without me?” Samuel asks.

Talia nods, not trusting her voice yet.

“You said you’d be miserable,” he continues, “and I know I’d feel the same if I ever lost you. I’d be more than that; I’d probably be devastated which...I know that’s how you felt when I drove away three days ago. I’m sorry for that. I want you to know that I don’t care if you’re a werewolf or that you could probably break me in half with your pinky—”

She bites her lip, trying not to smile, but fails.

“—So, I’m back. I want to stay with you and be with you. I want to be a father to our child. I want to bicker with your sister and mother while playing Monopoly. I want to be slightly intimidated by your father and irritate Peter for years to come…” Samuel trails off and searches his back pocket for a moment before his hand reappears in front of him.

There is a tiny ring pinched between two of his fingers. The thin gold band is adorned with a single tiny diamond that reflects the sunlight from overhead. Talia feels herself begin to shake as she realizes what he’s doing. Her heart is pounding against her ribs and she feels lightheaded in a very good way.

“Oh shit, I uh forgot I have to—” Samuel says and gets down on one knee.

“Get up, oh my god _get up_ ,” Talia says, voice watery as she rushes out of the house.

Samuel gets to his feet and barely makes it up the rest of the stairs before Talia gets to him. She wraps her arms around his neck, hiding her face there as she lets herself cry. His hold on her is tight as he gently sways them back and forth, muttering soft reassuring things into her ear. Eventually they break apart and Samuel is grabbing her left hand to slip the ring on.

“You’re saying yes right?” He asks shyly.

Talia gives him a raised look, “of course I’m saying yes.”

Samuel smiles and the expression lights up his face in a way Talia falls in love with all over again. The ring gets slightly caught on her knuckle but slips on easily once it gets past that point. She stares at her finger and at the simple but breathtaking ring now gracing it.

“How did you even get this?” Talia asks, looking back at Samuel.

“It was my mom’s, Dad kept it after they split. I’m really glad it fits, or this would’ve been embarrassing,” Samuel says.

“Or we could’ve gotten it sized,” Talia teases, letting her hands fall to her side.

They look at each other for a moment, and Talia can’t help but give into the nerves in her gut.

“You know what this means right? That you’ll be a part of a werewolf pack and that hunters will see you as a threat as well. Are you sure you want this?” Talia asks.

“I don’t think anyone wants to be hunted, but if it means I get to be with you and the pack then it’s worth it,” Samuel says seriously.

“You’re almost nineteen. Are you sure you want to be married?” Talia asks.

“Already having second thoughts?”

“No. Absolutely not, _but_ it’s different for me.”

“Different?”

Talia crosses her arms, “as far as werewolf milestones go, I’m pretty much the right age to be having kids and taking a mate. Werewolves, especially Alphas, tend to live longer than most humans since we don’t get sick. Age is really just a number for us.”

“Do you guys age in dog years or something?” Samuel asks hesitantly.

Talia rolls her eyes, because _dog humor_.

“No,” she deadpans, “our cells stay about ten to fifteen years healthier than our numerical age after we hit late puberty. When I’m fifty I’ll look like I’m in my late thirties to early forties but numerically I’ll still be fifty.”

Samuel looks a bit shocked before finally saying, “cool.”

“Hmm, _cool_ was not the answer I expected, but I’ll take it,” Talia snickers.

Her fiancé’s hands come up to her waist, the large palms grasping them firmly as she’s pulled closer. She falls back on the familiar motion and leans up on her tiptoes, tilting her head as their lips met. Talia’s hands rest on his biceps, eyes fluttering shut as they kiss. It feels right, as if she can breathe again.

Talia pulls back and turns around to see her mother silently standing in the doorway.

“How long has she been there?” Samuel whispers.

“Not long,” her mother answers, “and you both may as well come help with dinner. We have a new Hale to welcome into the pack.”

“New Hale?” Samuel questions but walks inside.

“I’m going to be the Alpha of the pack one day, I have to keep my last name and those who marry into the pack take the pack name….is that alright?” Talia explains, eyeing him.

He nods, “I’d be honored.”

“God, I love you,” she smiles.

“I love you too,” Samuel says, kissing her forehead.

* * *

 

Talia grimaces as Peter all but clotheslines Josephine, the sixteen-year-old hitting the ground with a loud groan. She gets back up a second later and snarls at her older brother, attacking again.

“Protect your middle Josie, he’s using your weakness against you,” their father instructs while watching over training.

Talia is currently lounging at the outside dining table, enjoying her twenty second birthday with a nice glass of lemonade. Samuel is sitting in the chair next to her, working on one of his assignments for his English class.

“I still can’t believe you guys can break bones and heal them within a few hours,” Samuel says, pausing from his work.

Talia smirks, “I can’t believe you have to wait months to heal a bone.”

“Touché,” he laughs and leans back in his chair, pencil falling from his hands, “I’m taking a break.”

“You started like twenty minutes ago,” Talia points out.

“Which means I get twenty minutes to spend with my girl,” Samuel says, and she’s suddenly being deposited into the lap of her fiancé. She laughs and leans into his chest, her arm looping around his shoulder to get more comfortable.

“Who knew you’d be as tactile as an actual werewolf,” she says, fingers lazily playing with his hair.

“It’s rather serendipitous,” he responds, and Talia rolls her eyes.

“You’re such a book nerd, using big words.”

“It’s part of my charm.”

The back door opens then, her mother walking out with a few ice packs.

“Give these to Josie when she’s done training, it sounds like she can use it,” her mother says, setting them on the table, hands braced on one of the chairs as she looks out to her own younger children fighting. “What time is Claudia coming over?”

“Six,” Talia answers, “so are Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Good. The food should be ready by then,” her mother says, turning to look at her with an amused grin, “you two are inseparable.”

“Young love?” Samuel provides.

Her mother chuckles, “what a force it is. Anyways, do you two need anything? How’s your stomach feeling after this morning, Hun?”

Talia thinks back to this morning. She’s starting to hate that her typical morning is starting off with running to the bathroom and vomiting her dinner back up.

“Better, the crackers helped a bit, I think I’ll be fine the rest of the day,” Talia says, hand moving to rest on her stomach that is starting to lose its flatness. The baby’s heart gets stronger every day, it’s like music to Talia. She’s about to ask if her mother needs any help when a too aggressive snarl comes from the yard followed by a whine.

Peter is on the ground cradling his arm that is seriously bleeding.

“Those two...come on Peter, I’ll get you cleaned up,” their mother sighs waiting for her son to walk up.

Josephine got his forearm pretty good with her claws. Talia is doing her best to tune out her father as he reprimands his youngest about using claws while sparring.

“That is _a lot_ of blood,” Samuel says, paling.

Talia shrugs, “it’ll be gone in five minutes.”

The conversation fades there but they stay wrapped up in each other for a bit longer. She’s gotten him used to scenting which is nice, it means she can cuddle him all the time, hide her face in his neck. It’s wonderful. Eventually she gets up and leaves him to his work that needs to be done before dinner. The day moves slowly; Peter isn’t found until he’s called to set the table, the cake frosting has to be remade when Josephine who insisted on helping puts salt rather than sugar in it…

“ _You’re a werewolf, how did you not smell the salt?_ ”

“ _Shut up, Talia!_ ”

...and Claudia’s Jeep manages to break down halfway to the house which had her father driving out to get her. By the time everyone is here Talia feels beyond stressed out and irritated. Samuel picks up on it and ends up attached to her side, doing his best to make her feel better. The thought alone makes her swoon.

“Come here Tallie, hugs are in order,” her grandmother says as she walks into the living room.

Talia stands up and hugs both her and her grandfather for good measure. They both head to the kitchen to greet her mother and it leaves her, her siblings, and Samuel in the living room.

“They don’t have a bag; do you think they remembered a present?” Josephine asks.

“I told them they didn’t need to get me anything,” Talia says, “that they should save their money to buy baby stuff later.”

“Oh,” her sister says and goes back to reading her book.

Talia is about to sit back down when the door opens again, this time an excited squeal echoes through the house. She barely has time to turn around before Claudia is bear hugging her despite being so small.

“Happy birthday!” Claudia sing songs.

“Oh my god hello to you too,” Talia laughs, hugging her friend back.

“Hi Claudia,” Peter greets from his chair while Josephine gets up for a hug.

“Hey guys, it’s been a while,” Claudia smiles.

The front door shuts and their father comes in.

“Everyone is here, so we can finally eat,” her father says, ushering all of them across the foyer and into the dining room. They all take their seats according to pack rank except for their parents who take each end of the table.

She’s been craving chicken parmesan for the longest time, so it is her birthday dinner choice. It is the best thing she’s eaten all day and the others don’t seem to be horribly offended by the meal either. At least it wasn’t the disgusting seafood _thing_ they had for her father’s birthday a few years back.

That year they ended up going out for pizza.

“So, tell me, when is the wedding again?” Her grandfather asks, sipping at his water.

“We’re thinking early next year, after the baby is born,” Samuel says, saving Talia seeing as she was mid-chew.

“ _After_?” Her grandmother asks.

Talia pauses, “yes after. This year has been and will continue to be a bit crazy...we both need time to adjust before getting into wedding planning.”

Both her grandparents smile and nod, but Talia can tell they’re a little confused. It makes sense, they were born in a different time where marriage and mating tended to be a must before a child was born.

“This just means we can buy an adorable little dress or an equally adorable little suit for the baby,” Claudia notes.

It gets a laugh out of everyone.

The rest of dinner flows easily. Jokes are told, stories are told, as usual Peter and Samuel ignore each other at all costs, and eventually plates are being cleared. Talia helps take care of them, drying them halfway before setting them on the rack.  

Samuel and Claudia are putting candles on the cake, laughing about an inside joke as they light the sticks of wax. Everyone gathers around the island, and the cake is put right in front of Talia as Peter gets stuck on filming duty. On the count of three everyone starts singing happy birthday, even Claudia who is horribly off tune and adds a few _cha cha chas_.

“Blow ‘em out!” Josephine says once the song is over.

Talia leans in with a deep breath, and in one exhale the candles are extinguished.

By the end of the night Talia feels dead on her feet.

“Go to bed,” her father suggests, kissing her forehead, “and happy birthday Tals.”

“Thanks Dad,” she smiles and looks to Samuel, “you gonna stay up a little while?”

“No, I’ll go up with you,” Samuel says, his hand squeezing her shoulder.

“Night guys,” Talia says, waving off her family before heading upstairs. She brushes her teeth first, and she’s just rinsed her mouth when Samuel comes in dressed in pajamas looking for his own toothbrush. With her minty breath she kisses his cheek before retreating to her— _their_ —room.

Boxes are still everywhere, mostly clothes and personal items Samuel brought from his place when he moved in a few weeks back. She shrugs off her clothes and puts on one of Samuel’s shirts before falling into bed, quickly pulling up the covers to find warmth. Her eyes feel heavy with sleep by the time the lights get turned off and she's joined in bed.

Talia scoots over and curls into Samuel’s side, breathing in his scent. He wraps an arm around her, his nose pressed against the top of her head.

“So...how’s it feel being twenty two?” Samuel asks softly.

“Tiring,” Talia sighs, “but good. It was a good day.”

“I’m glad,” Samuel says, yawning, before adding, “we should name the baby Tyson.”

“Why the hell would we name the baby Tyson?”

“Like Mike Tyson.”

Talia sits up, eyes wide, “we are not naming the baby after Mike Tyson.”

“They could totally be a heavyweight champion.”

“You’re insane.”

“It’s just a thought,” Samuel defends.

Talia lays back down and closes her eyes, “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“So, was that a _hard_ no on Tys—?”

“Oh my god shut up and go to sleep babe.”

* * *

 

Sand is everywhere, and this stupidly hot August heatwave is not making it any better.

Talia is sitting under a large umbrella on her beach towel watching as her father and brother roughhouse in the water. It is rather amusing to see Peter being tossed around so easily, if it was anyone but their father, he’d be fighting back a lot more.

Josephine and their mother were building a sand castle with Samuel being their water boy. She’s lost count of how many times he’s walked to the edge of the ocean to get a bucket of water, deliver it, then be sent to do it again. It is very amusing to watch.

She’s debating to get up and cool off in the water, at the same time she’s finally gotten comfortable on her towel. After a few moments of indecisiveness Talia grabs onto the umbrella pole, using it to help her to her feet. Her hand rests on her stomach which has filled out over the past five months.

With the baby so noticeable now, the pack has made it their mission to be her personal body guards 24/7. Even now as she stands up, she catches how her mother looks behind her in slight worry, cataloguing for anything harmful, before finding nothing wrong and turning back to the sand castle.

“Jesus Christ,” Talia huffs and puts her hair up into a ponytail.

“You coming in?” Peter asks from the shore, her ears picking up on his question despite him being yards away.

“Yeah, I need to cool off,” Talia tells him and begins walking across the sand towards the water.

The salty ocean air is nice, being at the coast provides a whole new range of sights and scents for her to take in. She digs her toes into the sand, displacing the tiny grains in the process. When the tide laps at her feet it feels a bit cold at first, but the further she walks the more she adjusts.

Her father throws Peter out into the waves, laughing at the way his son sputters in the saltwater.

“You two seem to be having fun,” Talia jokes, fingers playing with the water as she bobs with the waves as they pass.

“When he’s in a good mood I like to take advantage of it,” her father says, running a hand through his hair.

Talia nods in understanding. With age Peter only got sassier, Josephine is a teenage girl and he has more meltdown moments than she does. He doesn’t like to admit it but he really is the _sensitive_ one out of the three of them.

“Fight me old man,” Peter says as he swims back toward them.

“Who are you calling old?” Their father jokes, splashing at Peter.

Peter blanches and clears his throat, “Talia, obviously...”

“I’m only a few years older than you,” she reminds him.

“Yeah, older than me. Therefore, you are old.”

Their father laughs, “he got you there Tals.”

She rolls her eyes before dunking herself under the water, needing to both exit the conversation and to cool off some more.

When she pops back up, she sees the other three approaching the water, obviously looking to join.

“I call dibs on Dad for a chicken fight!” Josephine calls, running through the water to their father’s side.

“What no! Why do you get dibs?” Peter asks.

“Because I’m the youngest?” Josephine says like it’s obvious.

Suddenly Samuel clears his throat, “I bet we could win against them.”

Talia freezes up, her gaze flickering from her brother back to her fiancé. They don’t speak unless they absolutely have to and even then, it is awkward. Peter’s light eyes darken a bit as his eyebrows arch up, but there isn’t an immediate no.

Peter is actually thinking about it.

“You want to help me chicken fight against my dad and sister?” Peter asks.

Samuel shrugs, “I’m up for it.”

Talia is in shock when Peter’s defensive walls fade and he’s _nodding_. She catches the same look of disbelief on her mother’s face as the two work out who is going to be on whose shoulders.

Samuel ends up being the base and Peter is on his shoulders.

“You drop me, I’ll end you,” Peter says.

“I don’t think Talia would allow that, but you can try,” Samuel teases.

Josephine rolls her eyes, “can you two stop and start the game?”

Talia swims inland a bit so she’s out of the fight zone.

“3...2...1...Go!” Her mother calls out.

Her father and Josephine are very structurally sound, but Peter is managing to overpower Josephine a little bit. Samuel shoots her a look as he wobbles under the movement on his shoulders and she shrugs. There is nothing she can do to help him now.

“You little weasel just fall,” Peter grunts, trying to shove Josephine back.

“That’s not very nice,” Samuel says.

“You’re supposed to be on my team,” Peter yells and looks down to glare at his teammate.

Talia gasps as her father lunges forward which only gives Josephine more power behind her shove. Samuel loses his footing and Peter is sent flying back into the water. The two come back up and her brother doesn’t miss a beat when he flings himself at Samuel. She’s almost concerned for him until he splashes Peter enough to get away. They end up playing this cat and mouse tackling game, and Samuel is tending to be the mouse more than the cat.

“This is something I thought I’d never see,” her father says.

“No shit,” her mother agrees.

Talia shrugs, “I think they’ll get used to each other.”

Peter practically throws Samuel over his head and into deeper water, only for the older man to resurface coughing up water.

“Or not,” Josephine winces.

Talia sighs, “...or not.”

**Author's Note:**

> The world's biggest thanks to @endgame-sterek for being my partner in crime for this fic. 
> 
> Tumblr: @nogitsunelichen  
> Tumblr: @endgame-sterek
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated! ♥


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